Antagonize (From the Logs of Daniel Quinn Book 2)

by Thomas R. Manning

  “Al,” I said, hoping to hear an answer from him, but it didn’t come. I called his name a handful more times, but heard nothing.

  For the last five years, the only companion I truly had was Al. He was an artificial intelligence, sure, but he was the only voice I consistently heard. When he was first installed on the Belle, he spoke like nothing more than a standard computer, assisting me with operations on the ship. But he was designed to evolve, and after years of traveling together, he began to show signs of emotion and sentience. He joked with me, insulted me, and I him. Man and machine became the closest of friends. He used his vast database to teach me about the worlds and races we met in space, and I taught him how to behave more like a human.

  Now Al’s mainframe had been damaged in the attack. I wanted to scream, to throw or punch something. Al was literally a one-of-a-kind A.I. I didn’t have access to replacement parts, nor did I have the technological prowess to repair him. And what if he couldn’t be repaired? What if I had lost him forever?

  Four

  “Tress, are you okay?”

  “Yes,” he said with a hard grunt.

  “Okay. Stay buckled in your chair,” I told him as I moved back toward communications. I leaned over his chair to input commands and activate the ship’s damage report.

  Main power was online, but fluctuating rapidly. Life support was offline in various parts of the ship, namely the crew quarters, cargo bay, and engineering. There was damage to the outer hull of the ship, but no breach. Thrusters were nearly drained of their power, and the slingspace drive was damaged.

  Great, only a few minor problems, I thought. Granak knew exactly where and how to hit enough to cripple but not destroy my ship.

  There was only one sure way to repair the Belle. I always considered it to be a last resort, but at this point I had no other options. With the slingspace drive damaged, we couldn’t travel faster than light and reach Terra.

  I almost left Tress, who stared at the console in front of him. But as I looked closer his eyes were focused on something unseen and his eyes glowed the same indigo color I saw before. My thoughts were so focused on everything that happened to me and little on what happened to him, but his youth and inexperience couldn’t have prepared him for everything that happened today. I put a firm hand on his shoulder and leaned down to him.

  “We’re alive, Tress,” I said in Restran. “Do me a favor and look over these controls and screens. I know you won’t recognize the language, but come and find me if anything looks wrong.”

  He said nothing but nodded his head, and I clasped him once more on the shoulder before I walked down the corridor toward my quarters. The light above me flashed on and off, creating a disorienting effect on my eyes. When I reached my door the power fluctuations stopped it from fully opening. I had to grab onto the frame and pull hard to fit through. The room was cold and my lungs worked harder to breathe as the life support from the corridor slowly traveled into my room. It was a mess; the mattress had fallen off its frame, and the tall wood dresser had fallen forward. All its drawers stuck out and clothes were everywhere.

  At the far wall was my secret compartment, one of the fun features of the Kestrel class captain’s quarters. Inside were a number of items, the most important being a vial of golden liquid known as empyreus, which could absorb into most material objects, including metal, vegetation, and even human skin. Once done, empyreus could repair, recharge, or heal that item or person. I had little left, having used it on my engines in the past to maximize their power output. Now I could only hope that it would be enough to get my ship working again, including Al. I input a key code into a specific section of the wall and the door opened with a groan.

  Fortunately the compartment was well sealed and secured. Even with the damage Granak caused, the three items hadn’t budged from their holding places. My tactical suit, created from a rubber-like material, hung from the wall on the left side. The alloy was soft but allowed for a moderate amount of buffer where weapon fire was concerned. In the middle, an ancient samurai sword, a katana, with a hilt of red leather and gleaming steel, was mounted against the wall. Although the blade was clean, occasionally I swore I saw blood running from the tip to the hilt; the blood of a friend.

  Finally, the vial of empyreus sat in a protective box on the right. I grabbed it. Only a couple tablespoons remained. I had choices to make and priorities to set. Main power needed to be restored, first and foremost. After that, the engines needed to be repaired so I could reactivate the thrusters. Whatever empyreus was left would be saved to try to fix Al. As a machine, he didn’t technically have emotions, but I still hoped he would forgive me for using the liquid on the ship first.

  The Belle’s main power grid was in engineering, so most of my time would be spent down there. I returned to the bridge, my lungs appreciative of the fully-powered life-support. Tress fidgeted with the collar of his shirt and his legs were bouncing up and down, but his eye color returned to normal and he seemed to be looking over the various controls of the station. I tried to remind myself that he was my responsibility being on my ship.

  “Anything out of the ordinary?” I asked him.

  “Honestly, I do not know,” he said, unsure of himself. I leaned over and pointed to an indicator light of solid green.

  “See that? That color means the communications array is functioning normally.” That surprised me. “And if we turned this knob here . . . we can scan out for any transmissions or messages in our area, but so far it looks like we’re alone. You’re doing great, Tress.”

  He looked up at me and smiled. When I saw his eyes gleam silver, I knew my words helped him calm down. I gave him my best reassuring smile, which wasn’t very good, admittedly. I sat across from him at the tactical station and pulled up a blueprint of the Belle.

  All life support bulkhead doors were closed, which they were supposed to be if one of the ship’s sections lost power. Tress and I would eventually need power in our quarters to rest, but we would have to wait a while longer for that.

  I tried to find a suitable supply of life-support to divert to engineering, but the only sustainable sections were the bridge, armory, and corridors. There wasn’t enough in the armory to power engineering fully, and our lives depended on the oxygen supplied to the bridge. The only other breathable environments on the ship were the corridors. I ran a couple of simulations, diverting power from them into engineering. Time would be short, but it would be enough to reach the power grid.

  “Come over here, Tress,” I said and input the necessary command codes to divert the power. The buckle clicked open and the seat squeaked as he stood.

  “I need your help. I need you to turn this switch.” I pointed to it and mimicked the motion of turning it clockwise. “Once you do that, you’ll need to communicate through the ship’s audio network and tell me how much time I have before life support fails. Press this button here,” I said while showing him the round blue button near the center of the console. “Hold it down to speak and keep an eye on the percentage bar. When it reads five percent, let me know.” I keyed in the number and symbol so he would know what to look for.

  “Okay,” he said softly.

  “Tress,” I replied. “This is important. Without you, I can’t do this. I need to know you’re going to be okay.”

  I wanted him to feel helpful, to show him he was needed. In times of struggle a man, or in this case alien, needs to be given direction, needs to be led. I just wish there was someone here to lead me right now.

  “I can do it,” he said, his voice louder and more confident. I smiled.

  “Good.”

  I walked to the third deck, caressing the bulkhead with my hand as if I were telling my ship she would be okay. I climbed down the stairs and walked in front of the door to engineering. I had no idea what kind of damage was waiting for me on the other side. I took a deep breath and pressed the communication’s button on a control pad.

  “Tress, whenever you’re ready.” I watch
ed above the door where an indicator light flashed red, telling me the life support was offline. Gears along the second floor corridor ground and closed. Once the door shut, all power between the bridge and me would be off. I don’t know why, but I felt like a rat trapped in a cage. I didn’t train Tress to divert the power back to the other decks, so I was literally stuck down here until I could initialize main power at the source.

  The light turned green and the doors opened, somewhat. After passing a foot away from each other, the doors jammed, but there was enough space to squeeze through and enough room to see the mess.

  Conduits, wiring, and glass shards littered the floor. From what I could tell, half the light fixtures in the room exploded during the attack. The lights that still worked flickered off and on, causing a disorienting effect on my vision.

  Engineering was the only other room that competed in size with the cargo bay, mostly because it housed two large turbines that powered my thrusters and slingspace. I stepped over debris on the floor and leaned over the banister. The engines both looked to be in good condition, but the conduits that connected them to the main power grid were lying on the floor.

  “Stars above,” I cursed. If I reactivated main power before the conduits were connected, there would be an enormous backfire of energy above the turbines.

  I spent nearly an hour dragging the conduits and lifting them against the bannister. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and jumped atop the engines. I leaned forward and grabbed the edges of the conduits, and pulled them up with me one at a time, connecting the turbine with the power grid. Once I felt the connection was secure, I dropped a small amount of empyreus on the connecting points. The glowing liquid absorbed into the metal and began the fusion process. I repeated the same step with the other turbine, nearly pulling a muscle in my back while lifting the second conduit. Once everything was done, the engines looked as good as new, and I could finally energize the main power supply.

  The main operating station was across the room. Glass cracked beneath my feet as I approached the breaker box. I double checked to make sure none of the wires were disconnected. Empyreus was a powerful agent, able to fuse and power, but it couldn’t create something from nothing. It couldn’t build new pathways, only strengthen existing ones. My bionic eye wasn’t always so easy to use. After its installation, I couldn’t use the damn thing without sharp pain radiating through my head. But then Laraar, a friend from the Dawnian race, used the empyreus on it. The electronic components fused together with my optical connections, or what I had left of them after my eye was taken. Now it worked flawlessly.

  As soon as the liquid absorbed, sparks shot out and multiple humming sounds of different tones emanated through the room. The flickering lights turned solid, the computer displays turned on and registered the ship’s operations and statistics. Finally, a sound like thunder boomed and made me jump. I turned to see the turbines spinning.

  The Belle was alive once more, and I couldn’t help but smile. I left just enough liquid to use on my bridge console and hopefully repair Al. There was still a lot of physical repair work and clean up, but at least I could move the ship. I didn’t want to be found adrift by a ship ‘salvager’.

  With main power on, life support flowed throughout the ship and all doors opened. I squeezed back through the engineering entrance and climbed to the bridge where Tress anxiously waited.

  “You did great,” I told him, patting him on the shoulder.

  Over the next half hour, Tress acted well in his role as shipmate. On my back under the main console, I studied the computer boards and wiring carefully, making sure all connections were in place. Copper wiring had melted away in a couple spots, but Tress retrieved new wiring from the cargo bay. From what he told me, the bay was just as much a mess, if not more, than engineering, but Damon’s coffin remained intact and secured. The Karthans were a talented bunch, no doubt about it.

  Once I finished repairs, I had a couple of options. I could return to Karth, but they might terminate my contract when they learned I failed to apprehend Granak. Also, fixing the Belle wasn’t going to be quick. Broken lights and messy floors were the least of my problems. Some computer terminals still didn’t work, and the hull had been weakened during the attack. There was risk in my other option, too, which was traveling straight to Terra. If the outer hull was damaged too much, traveling faster than light would shake the Belle apart.

  Should I get stuck on Karth with potentially little to no payment, or travel to Terra and possibly die on route? Decisions.

  I knew the Belle could hold her own in slingspace. I’d have to travel directly to Terra, but once there I should be able to arrange for a repair crew. But first thing’s first. I finished the connections under the console, satisfied that it should come online, and Al with it. I stood, brushed myself off, and let loose the remainder of the empyreus. As I watched it drop, I felt guilty for using it so quickly. The alien species I called the Dawnians were out there learning how to live without the stuff. I didn’t want to take it for granted, but what else could I do?

  The computer console lit up instantly, the star map blinked our location and navigation held the course previously set to Terra.

  “Al,” I said. “Al, can you hear me buddy?”

  Nothing. I waited a few minutes, thinking maybe his system required a reboot.

  “Al? It’s Daniel. Can you hear me?”

  He didn’t answer.

  I slammed my hand on the console. The pain only added to the fear and despair; I might never talk to Al again. I slammed my hand again and again, each time increasing speed until the throbbing pain was all I felt. I wanted to storm through the ship and tear things apart, and might have done so if it wasn’t already a mess. Did I lose my computer, no, my friend forever? I checked all the connections again and studied the motherboard that was comprised of Al’s chips and circuitry while nursing my bruising hand. The circuits looked fine, better than fine. I refused to admit that Al was gone. Instead, I promised that once my mission was completed, I would use the money to find a way back to Earth, or to at least communicate with my father. If I could find him, then, as Al’s creator, he would know what to do.

  I closed my eyes, taking all the emotion I felt over Al’s disappearance and pushing it into an imaginary door. I closed it, shoving hard against the latch as they fought to unleash upon my consciousness. Once the door was closed, I opened my eyes, told Tress to buckle up, and I engaged the slingspace engines.

  Five

  Never before have I been so terrified on my own ship. The Kestrel Belle was my home, but numerous loose items flew around the ship, clanging against the walls, floors, and ceilings. More than once I thought the noises were the hull splitting open, preparing to suck us out into oblivion. My knuckles were white and after every deep breath I held it in just as long.

  I heard Tress mumbling behind me. He was easily more scared than I was, but I have to give him respect; not once did he throw up.

  “Tress,” I said, thinking of a way to keep ourselves distracted from the stress and terror. “Tell me about yourself. You and Damon are from the same solar system, right? So that means there are three planets that are inhabitable?”

  “Yes,” he said, his voice more high pitched than normal. “We had not achieved space flight until after humans discovered their planets, otherwise we may have colonized them.”

  “How did your kind feel about the new neighbors? Were you resentful that we took the planets next to you?”

  “I was taught that humans were our friends,” Tress said, the tension in his voice dissipating. “For many years we bartered with humanity, shared our technologies. What would you call it? A business ship?”

  “I think you mean partnership,” I said, stifling a laugh. I turned my head to look at him and I found him staring out the window to the stars we flew by. Something troubled him and since he really didn’t have anywhere to escape to, I pressed the issue. “The last time I asked you about your home planet you quick
ly changed the subject on me, and now that I mentioned it again, you seem like you’re in some kind of daze. There’s more to this story I don’t know about, isn’t there?”

  Tress shrugged, which wasn’t an answer, but he still gave me something. Maybe I had to show him some trust to get some in return.

  “It’s been a long time since I last saw Earth, close to six years now. I had just graduated from the Earth Star Alliance Academy and received my first post in outer space. My life kind of went to hell after that, but that’s another story. Maybe I can tell it to you sometime.”

  I sat there and waited. If he kept quiet, I would continue with the story and tell him about my horrific time spent on the Echelon after I was framed for killing my girlfriend and bride-to-be, Ashley Pierce. I didn’t want to, simply because of the painful memories it raises, but if Tress and I were going to be on the Belle together, we needed to trust one another. To my surprise, he told me his story.

  The entire planet of Tristain was evacuated. With no warning whatsoever, no alien invasion alerts or planetary disaster signals, the government of Tress’s planet ordered everyone world-wide to board their ships and leave. Emergency transport shuttles were rerouted to Tristain in order to help with the evacuation. On one of these shuttles was Damon Derringer. That’s how the two of them met.

  “Damon hoped that if he found you and convinced you to help him, that maybe you could help me find out why I was forced to leave my planet.” His eyes were closed, but I imagined a deep shade of blue underneath his thick, leather-like eyelids. “My parents stayed behind, as did some of the other elders, but the rest of us were scattered into the stars.”